


As if it Might Turn Out This Time

by AnaliseGrey



Series: maybe in another universe [3]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hadestown Fusion, Beau mention, Hadestown AU, Happy Ending (I Promise), M/M, Multiverse, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, bard!Caleb, canon-typical Caleb angst towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: "'Cause here’s the thingTo know how it endsAnd still begin to sing it againAs if it might turn out this timeI learned that from a friend of mine"
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Series: maybe in another universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1421506
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	As if it Might Turn Out This Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome back to the MiAU series! Sorry this next installment took so long, but well... *gestures at everything*.
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait :)
> 
> (This can be seen as an alternate take on the Hadestown chapter of ['in every life (i'd know you)'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745795/chapters/46108336)).

They step through the rift and out into dark with a baby’s cry still echoing in their ears.

The air is stifling, the heat hitting them like a wall, and for a moment they stand still, waiting for the rush of rift travel to release them.

“Well,” Molly says, straightening himself out and resettling his coat on his shoulders. “That was sure something.”

“ _Ja_.” Caleb hasn’t moved, though Molly feels a tentative hand rest on his arm, holding onto the sleeve of his coat. “Can you see anything, Mollymauk?”

The dark is near all-consuming, but just to one side there’s a faint glow, illuminating just enough that Molly can tell they’re in a tunnel of some sort. The light is of a quality he’s never seen, steady and strong like daylight, but with an almost blueish-yellow quality. It’s reminiscent of firelight, but unwavering.

“Yeah, I can.” He looks over and in the faint light can see Caleb’s face, eyes wide and staring, and he’s reminded that not everyone is graced with dark vision. He places a hand over Caleb’s on his arm, giving a squeeze. “Let’s head towards the light, shall we?”

Caleb snorts quietly, but nods, and the two of them take off, careful in the low light. As they travel, the light brightens slowly, eventually becoming enough that Caleb can see as well, if not easily. He lets go of Molly’s sleeve to move on his own, and Molly ignores the small pang at the loss of contact.

As they move and the light grows stronger, so does the noise. It’s an odd noise, rhythmic, mechanical, the sound of large machinery. They come around a turn in the tunnel, and stumble to a stop, ducking back around the bend. Around the turn the tunnel opens to a larger space, the light they’ve been seeing flooding in, bright as day.

They wait, listening, and while there’s the sound of voices, barely discernible over the clank and bang of machinery, none of them seem to be getting closer, and with a nod to each other they creep forward to peer out the tunnel’s opening.

There’s a large crowd gathered below, and Caleb almost dives back into the tunnel, but Molly stills him with a hand on his arm.

“They’re not paying attention to us,” he says quietly, directing Caleb’s gaze toward the center of the mob.

There’s a small cleared area in the middle of the crowd where a quartet of figures stand. To one side is a woman dressed in green, her skin a vibrant red, elegantly curved horns rising and curling back from her forehead. Flowers are woven into her hair and spill down the side of her dress. While she’s striking, the figure next to her is achingly familiar- this world’s Molly, dressed in dirty overalls, stands at her side. There’s something different about him, and it takes Caleb a moment to figure out what it is; the Molly down on the floor looks washed out, his color tinged more toward a faint grey than the vibrant lavender Caleb is accustomed to. Even his tattoos look faded, especially when compared to the woman, who has an arm draped protectively over his shoulders. This Molly looks leaner, the hollows under his eyes more pronounced, even under the dirt and grime smeared across his skin. He’s almost drowning in the overalls, and something in Caleb’s heart twists- he knows what hunger looks like.

“Oh _wow_.”

Caleb looks over at his own Molly, whose attention is focused off to the side in the crowd, and when he follows his line of sight he catches what’s sparked Molly’s interest. There’s a large man, skin a faint blueish-gray, in slacks, a waistcoat, and rolled up shirtsleeves, but there in front of him, standing on his own, shoulders back and spine straight, is another Caleb. There’s a guitar slung over his shoulder, and while there’s a line of tension running through him, from the bit of expression Caleb can see, he’s looking adamantly stubborn, confrontational-

 _Determined_.

It quickly becomes apparent that whatever is going on, it’s happening between the four main figures. The rest of the crowd is dressed similarly to Molly, looking just as washed out and worn. There’s interest, but also fear; they far outnumber the larger man, but it’s clear who’s in charge, and it isn’t them.

“You sneak in,” the man’s voice booms, carrying easily across the space, and Molly and Caleb both tense at the entrance to the tunnel. “You sneak into my place of power, and then you have the _audacity_ to try to take what belongs to me.”

“He belongs to no one.” The other Caleb’s voice is strikingly loud, far louder than Molly is used to hearing it, strong, clear and confident. His accent is fainter, painting the edge of his words like gilding. “Least of all _you_.”

The large man _grins_ , the look of a predator watching prey wander close, unknowing. “And that’s where you’re wrong. Now, you’re not from around here, son, so I can see how you might be confused. You don’t belong here, so why don’t you just head on back the way you came, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see you.”

“Babenon, I know this boy-” For the first time the woman in green speaks, her arm tightening slightly around the other Molly. “His name is Caleb. You should have heard him sing-”

“Marion, you stay out of this,” the man- _Babenon_ \- says, then steps forward, and Caleb doesn’t understand how his counterpart doesn’t pull back, how he can stand so bravely as the other man moves forward to loom menacingly over him. “You don’t belong here, son. You better _run_.”

The Molly down below moves to take a step, but stops short when Babenon turns his gaze his way.

“Caleb, _please_ , you need to leave.” His voice is hopeless, scared, and Caleb finds himself bristling as Molly freezes next to him.

There’s a split second where the Caleb down on the work floor visibly gathers himself, then shakes his head. “ _Nein_ , I’m not going back alone. I am not leaving without him.”

Instead of the anger Caleb expects, the man down below bellows with incredulous laughter. “Who do you think you are? Who the _hell_ do you think you’re talking to?" 

The Caleb below stands impossibly taller, shoulders squaring like he’s raring for a fight.

“You are the man with the power to let him go.”

Babenon snorts, and Marion’s hand tightens on their Molly’s shoulder. From the gathered crowd a quiet murmur is starting, a suserrus of sound almost buried by the clank and bang of the machinery that still runs around them.

“Fine.”

Babenon walks to a chair to the side, pulls it over and sits down like it’s more a throne than the rickety-looking chair it is.

“Since my wife is such a _fan,_ I’ll give you one more song before I send you to the great beyond. Make me laugh. Make me _weep_.” Babenon doesn’t move, but as he speaks he seems to grow, looming to fill the space even as he sits. His gaze on the Caleb below is heavy, challenging, and his next words come out more as a growl than actual words. “Make an old king feel young again. **Sing** for an old man.”

If not for the machine’s noise, Caleb is certain he’d be able to hear a pin drop, the figures below frozen in a tableau, waiting for something to happen.

And then it does.

The Caleb below swings his guitar around, takes a moment to tune it, and then starts to sing.

Beside him, Molly sucks in a breath as the Caleb below’s voice rises, starting timidly and quickly gaining strength and surety.

“Caleb-” Molly breathes. “I didn’t know you could _sing_. You’ve been holding out on me.”

Heat flares on Caleb’s face and he ducks his head, trying to hide in his scarf.

The voice from below is only gathering steam, getting louder, and the Caleb below stops strumming a brief moment to move his hand in a gesture easily recognizable as casting, though not in a way Caleb has grown familiar with. A pair of figures appear, semi-translucent and limned in sparkling light; they’re obviously meant to mimic Babenon and Marion, acting out the words of the song.

As the song reaches its climax, it’s as if a whole choir joins the Caleb below, and Caleb’s heart squeezes, filled near to bursting with more emotion than he’s felt in over a decade. This is a love song- not just a song about being in love, but a song that _is_ love, the notes and words combining to more than the sum of their parts. He breaks his gaze from the goings on below to glance over at his Molly, and finds the other man spellbound, enraptured with what’s going on below, and Caleb quickly turns away at the sight of a tear sliding down over lavender skin.

The song slows, gentles, until it’s just the Caleb below singing, guitar silent, and in the coaxing quiet, Babenon _joins_ him, his own voice hushed and wondering, reverent.

Their voices drop away, and despite the persistent hum of machinery, there’s a stillness to the air, a hush filled with promise, like anything could happen.

It holds another moment, and then Babenon rises, sidesteps the Caleb below, and moves to stand in front of Marion, his face softer than Caleb would have expected possible. He holds his hand out to her, and sees her face soften in-turn. She takes it, and for a moment, they dance, him leading her in a gentle sway, ending on a twirl that brings her close until they’re standing close enough to share breath.

“What do you think will happen?”

Molly’s whisper startles him, and Caleb could kick himself for having gotten lost in someone else’s moment. He turns to look at Molly again, whose face is mostly dry now, only the faintest sheen remaining to speak of tears.

“I don’t know. He appears moved, but men like that-” He takes a deep breath, letting it out and trying not to think of other men he’s known, who seemed friendly but whose moods could turn on a silver. “Men like that are difficult to predict. He is a man of power. To let them go could prevent a riot, but to let them go also undermines his power, shows he has a weak point most men like him would never allow. There is no way to know.”

They wait another moment, watching as the crowd below also waits. Eventually the two colorful figures part, but it doesn’t escape Caleb’s notice that they don’t let go of each others hands, either.

“You can take him-”

There’s a collective gasp from the crowd, and Caleb can see just enough of his counterpart’s face to catch the joyous expression; he can also see the other Molly, jaw gone slack in surprise. What had been murmurings from the crowd rise again, still hushed, but louder now, more insistent. 

“But.”

The voices still just as quickly as they’d begun.

“You can take him with you, but not at your side. Once you’re into that tunnel, you mustn’t look behind the whole walk back to the outside and above. You’ve shown great courage, and I can appreciate that. But you also need to show _faith_ , in your love and each other, if you’re to make it out of this together. If your faith quails, if you doubt and look, then he’s _mine_ , and you’ll never see him again. Do you understand?”

The Caleb below is already nodding and turning towards his Molly, hand out in an echo of Babenon’s actions a few minutes prior. Marion smiles, giving their Molly a gentle push forward, and he and his Caleb fall into each other’s arms, exchanging words too quiet to hear from such a distance.

“Are we supposed to follow them, do you think?” Molly’s hand is in his coat pocket where his half of the relic is stashed. In his own pocket, Caleb feels his half pulse, warm enough to feel through the fabric.

“I think we are, _ja_. Though getting down to the tunnel to follow is going to be a trick.”

Looking around, it’s easy to see machinery still running along, parts of it exposed, large gears turning interminably, and Molly hums in thought.

“Do you think your magic works here?”

“I- I don’t know. Why?”

“Well,” Molly says. “I bet it would be awfully distracting if something got tossed into one of those really big machines, huh?”  
  
Following Molly’s gaze, Caleb nods, brows pinching in thought.

“You know, I imagine it would. We will need to time it just right, of course.”

They quickly discuss a plan, Caleb going back into their tunnel briefly to try casting Dancing Lights just to be sure his magic still works. To his immense relief it does, though it vibrates oddly across his fingertips as he completes the somatic component.

They both inch back to the tunnel opening and peer out. Below, the couple has pulled apart and are speaking to what appears to be this world’s version of Beau. She’s gesturing emphatically, at one point poking her Caleb hard in the shoulder. Caleb can’t hear her, but he's almost certain she just called the other Caleb a dumbass.

Finally the time comes, and the couple heads towards the lower tunnel entrance. They kiss before separating, and the other Caleb straightens his shoulders, putting a brave face on things before settling his guitar on his back and heading through, his Molly following a moment later.

The crowd is just starting to disperse, Babenon and Marion heading off hand-in-hand together when Molly turns to Caleb and hisses, “ _Now_.”

Caleb pulls his components out, makes the somatic gesture and whispers the words, feeling the spell take effect. He can’t see Schmidt, but he can sense him, and directs him to head down the nearby staircase and over to an unguarded toolbox. From there, it’s relatively easy to track his progress as the wrench he’s been instructed to pick up bobs gently across the floor below.

Caleb and Molly both hold their breath as the wrench floats its way up a service ladder at the piece of machinery at the far end of the spell’s range. There’s a brief pause, and then the wrench goes up and over the side, into the nest of moving gears.

Caleb immediately dismisses Schmidt, and for a second nothing happens.

Then all hell breaks loose.

There’s a horrible grinding noise, a shriek of rending metal, all the heads down below turning towards the machine and almost as a whole breaking into a run towards it. Caleb and Molly take their chance and bolt for the same staircase Schmidt took down from their perch, hoping the noises of mechanical destruction from across the room will cover their escape. They hit the bottom of the steps running, Caleb almost slipping, but Molly grabs his arm and hauls him up and along, tearing towards the tunnel entrance their doubles went through not ten minutes before.

Every moment they expect to hear shouts, to be found out, to be stopped and dragged back, but it doesn’t happen. One moment they’re dashing madly across the factory floor, and the next they’re at the tunnel entrance.

They slip inside, and for a moment they just breathe, giddy with the rush of success, of having made it unseen. Barely taking the time to catch their breath, they move onward, and it’s not long before Caleb has to keep a hand on Molly’s arm, once again unable to see where they’re going. It’s darker than pitch, almost silent, and the weight of it quickly begins to press. The warmth of Molly through his sleeve is helping keep Caleb’s panic at bay, reminding him he’s not alone here, though it reminds him his counterpart doesn’t have that comfort, forced to walk alone, hoping his beloved follows behind.

After a bit of walking, Caleb thinks he sees something in the distance, but it’s difficult to tell; in darkness this absolute he knows sometimes human eyes and minds will conjure images and patterns, creating something out of nothing just to keep the mind occupied.

“Molly,” he whispers, barely more than a breath. “Do you see-?”  
  
“Yeah.” The response is equally as quiet. “I see the other me. He was glowing a bit when he entered the tunnel. I think we’re catching up, come on.”

Molly pulls his arm out from under Caleb’s hand and for a split second Caleb has to swallow the overwhelming panic that Molly is about to leave him, but then he feels warm fingers encircle his wrist, squeezing tight before tugging him forward.

They hurry on, and before long the image of the other Molly grows closer and clearer. He’s slightly translucent, not quite all there, and glowing gently like a firefly. Just ahead, Caleb can barely make out of the shape of the other Caleb, arm out to have his fingertips on the wall; it occurs to him his double must be equally-blind down here, but without the benefit of someone to help guide him.

It’s still quiet, and after another minute of walking the realization hits him.

He can hear his double’s footsteps, but not the other Molly’s. From the other Caleb’s point of view, he must seem entirely alone.

The faint sound of humming drifts back to them, a haunting echo of the tune sung back in the cavern, but this time there’s no sparkling lights, no arcane chorus to join in.

“Does he look especially tense to you?”

Caleb blinks, then squints, trying to get his eyes to focus better on the figure in the distance. There’s a tight line to the other Caleb’s shoulders that make Caleb’s own ache in sympathy; his steps do seem more stilted than before, not as sure as when they’d first caught up to him, but beyond that Caleb just can’t see well enough to tell.  
  
“I think so, _ja_ , but I don’t feel that’s unreasonable considering the circumstances.”

“We should do something.”

Turning to look at his own Molly, Caleb can barely make out his expression in profile, lit by the faint glow of Molly’s double. His mouth is pressed to a thin line, brow furrowed, and while Caleb can sympathize, he shakes his head.

“We are not supposed to futz with anything, Mollymauk. The Keeper specifically said-”  
  
“Caleb, how can we not?” Molly pulls Caleb to a stop for a moment, their doubles drifting on ahead of them. “We have the chance to help, to let someone have a happy ending. If I have the chance to change the ending to this story for them, even if- even if-” He pauses, getting himself together. Caleb can no longer see his face, but he can imagine the expression- brows knitted, eyes serious and glinting. “The point is, when presented with the chance to make things better, to leave somewhere better than you found it, why wouldn’t you? Why can’t we do something _good_?”

He sounds so earnest, so heartfelt, and Caleb’s resolve starts to crack.

“Mollymauk, the Keeper said-”  
  
“ _Fuck him_. We’re already doing this ridiculous quest thing for him. What difference does it make if someone ends up _happy_? How can that be a bad thing? We deserve happiness, Caleb. Why leave suffering in our wake when we have the choice to _do something_ about it?”

Whatever his misgivings, however much worry gnaws at his belly, Caleb can’t tell him no.

He sighs. “ _Ja_ , okay, then.”  
  
“Alright...okay.” Molly’s fingers flex where they’re still holding Caleb’s wrist, and it’s an effort not to twitch. “It’s got to be me that talks to him.”

“Why?”  
  
“Because I know you.” The smile is easy to hear in Molly’s voice now as he turns and tugs Caleb’s arm to get him moving again. “You’d never listen to yourself. You’re such a grump it would sound suspicious if your own voice started telling you cheery shit. Makes more sense for it to come from me.”

Hard to argue that point, Caleb supposes.

Molly pulls him along at a quick pace until the other two come back into view. Molly lets go of Caleb’s wrist, patting his arm before he darts ahead on near-silent feet to walk a pace or so behind the Caleb walking up ahead. 

Caleb tries to tell himself his wrist doesn’t feel cold in comparison, now.

He moves up slightly himself, so he’s more or less to the side of the luminescent Molly. This Molly doesn’t seem to notice him, eyes staring straight forward, and Caleb isn’t certain whether he’s seeing the other Molly or not. His hands are clasped and twisting in front of him, mouth moving silently. Brief pieces of memory from earlier in his life slip through Caleb’s mind, making it easy to read the word on those lips-

 _'Please_.'

In the stillness, he can hear his own Molly murmuring, words hushed yet pitched for the other Caleb to hear.

“Caleb, are you listening? I’m _right here_ , and I will be ‘til the end.” There’s more, but Caleb doesn’t catch it. He hears the other him mutter something to himself, though he can’t tell what it is, just the tone. It’s a tone he’s unfortunately familiar with, filled with despair, worry, and a thread of anxiousness. It’s odd to hear his own voice coming from someone else.

Molly’s voice picks up again, soft words of encouragement, reminding this world’s Caleb that he’s not alone, that he needs to trust that if he stays the course, if he holds true, then at the end it will work out.

That he needs to _believe_.

They’ve walked what feels like hours, Molly’s voice murmuring the whole time. As he walks, Caleb realizes that there’s the touch of fresh air on his face, and just up ahead is a large glowing circle- the exit from the tunnel. In the light coming from up ahead, there’s enough to see the walls come into focus around him.

There's also just enough that up ahead, he sees his counterpart hesitate.

The moment grows heavy, time spinning out like pulled sugar, the world holding its breath. Beside him he sees the glowing form of this world’s Molly pull up short, growing tense within his softly-blurred lines.

The moment holds, and Caleb is utterly convinced that it’s all about to crash down, that this world’s Caleb is just as much a mess as he is, that this was too big an ask. He’s already preparing himself for Molly’s disappointment when he hears the man in question, voice insistent and sure despite the rasp Caleb can hear in it.

“I am right behind you, and I have been all along. The darkest hour hour of the darkest night comes right before-”

The world snaps back into focus with crystalline sharpness as the Caleb ahead takes a step forward, moving out through the mouth of the tunnel and into the sun.

Utterly unprepared for things to have turned out, it takes Caleb a second to realize the change. From beside him there’s a sudden intake of shuddering breath, and he looks over to see the other Molly, no longer translucent and glowing, but now awash with color, as if Jester had taken her paints to him. He still looks gaunt and tired, but his skin is back to the rich lavender Caleb recognizes, his tattoos once again bright as wildflowers.

At the mouth of the tunnel, his own Molly is waiting, trying to stay out of sight, though it’s something of a moot point. This world’s Molly is staring, eyes darting back and forth between them with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Go on then,” his Molly says, voice soft. “He’s waiting for you.”

The Molly next to Caleb grins, his whole face lighting up and wiping away some of the exhaustion that’s been sat there since the start. To Caleb’s surprise, he turns, grabbing Caleb’s hand and giving it a squeeze; it’s just as warm as his own Molly’s had been.

“ _Thank you_.”

There’s emotion in those words, so much more than two small words should be able to contain, and yet-

The Molly leans up and kisses Caleb’s cheek briefly before letting go of his hand and turning to flee up the tunnel and out into the sunshine.

Slowly, as if moving through water, Caleb moves up to stand next to his own Molly, the both of them looking through the tunnel opening and out into the grassy field beyond.

The couple from this world are holding each other tight, laughing and crying both, wrapped so closely together it’s difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. It’s a beautiful and heartwarming sight, and something in Caleb’s chest squeezes.

“My mother,” Caleb says quietly, surprising himself, “before I came along, was a traveler, much like our merry band of assholes. She was a performer, a singer, though she could pick a song out on a lute if she wanted to.”

He continues to look out at the pair in the field, though he can feel the weight of Molly’s eyes on him.

“Then she met my father, and decided to stay in Blumenthal, to throw her lot in as a farmer’s wife. They didn’t have a lot, but they were happy. Then I came along. I used to sing with her when I was little. I maybe could have followed in her path- I had some facility with it- but decided I had other things I’d rather do. I haven’t really sung since-”

He stops, mouth snapping shut.

Molly doesn’t know.

And he isn’t going to find out.

“Well. It’s been a long time.”

Molly puts a hand on his arm, and Caleb can’t help but think he’s been touched by Molly- and more than one- more today than he has ever been.

“It’s never too late while you’re alive and drawing breath. There’s still time. Sometimes a song does a person good.”

For a brief moment, Caleb sees a flash of what his life could have been. A life of performances, of pleasing crowds. Of traveling far and wide, and in the end, being able to go back.

Being able to go home again.

But that is not the life he chose; and so here he is.

“If you say so, Mr. Mollymauk.”

A short distance away, behind a tree, Caleb spots a flickering, unnatural light, and the piece of relic in his pocket pulses insistently.

“Ah, there we are. Time to go.”

He spares a brief glance for the happy couple, but they’re utterly caught up in each other, not paying the least bit of attention to him or his own Molly. He heads to the tree, the sounds of his Molly’s footsteps light on the grass behind him.

Just around the side of the tree is one of the rifts, the edges torn and jagged, flashing unnatural colors that make his eyes water. Pulling his piece of the relic from his pocket, he turns to see Molly doing the same, his expression tight. They each hold their pieces up toward each other and the pieces snap together with a flash of sparks like flint on steel; as they do, the sides of the rift also snap together, sealing up as if stitched by an invisible hand. A foot to the side, a calmer-looking slice appears mid-air, with darkness beckoning from beyond.

“Alright then,” Molly says as the relic halves come loose from each other. He tucks his half into his pocket, and looks back at Caleb. “On to the next, I suppose.”

“ _Ja_. On to the next.”

And with that, they slip through the portal and are on their way.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following songs:
> 
> [Epic III](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8c05EMeY2E8)
> 
> [Doubt Comes In](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HgAJn8gVGgQ)


End file.
